


Magic Words and Frivolous Rhymes

by ratherbefree



Series: Carry On AU [1]
Category: Carry On - Rainbow Rowell, Community (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen, mostly friendship + implied, not overly relationship-y or anything, the crossover no one asked for
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-21
Updated: 2016-02-21
Packaged: 2018-05-22 11:35:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6077886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ratherbefree/pseuds/ratherbefree
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Annie Edison needs help with her magickal words. Jeff Winger offers his assistance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Magic Words and Frivolous Rhymes

**Author's Note:**

> helps if you've read "Carry On" by Rainbow Rowell 
> 
> haven't checked this over or anything - will probably look over it soon for any mistakes

Annie Edison tapped her wand - an old family relic, most recently belonging to her mother - against her thigh, running over Professor Duncan’s words in her head over and over and over. 

It’s not that she didn’t agree with him - she absolutely, whole-heartedly, depressingly, did - but it was just so  _humiliating_ to be advised, by a professor, to seek help in the form of a  _tutor._

A student tutor, nonetheless - never mind he was a Seventh Year, he wasn’t even a  _teacher_ and still was apparently able to give her the help she so desperately needed. 

Of course, it wasn’t the first time a professor had noticed she was - ahem -  _struggling_ with her spells. It was ongoing, ever since First Year; weekly meetings with her form teacher, just to  _“check in”_ on how she was coping, being asked to stay behind after class, sympathetic looks from professors who hadn’t even taught her yet. 

And it was just so  _frustrating_  sometimes - Annie Edison happened to be a pretty good Mage, if she said so herself. She completed the coursework, aced the theory exams, contributed in class, took up extracurricular activities, and made efforts to get along with everyone. She was a good student…

Except. 

It was the damn  _words_  - the spells - that always got her. 

With most spells, you had to say them  _exactly_ right. Any emphasis on a wrong syllable, wrong  _letter,_ even, could turn out completely wrong results. 

Like the time she tried to cast  **A little bird told me** to send a letter to Vaughn after dark, and had to be taken to the medical room after the eagle soared through the open window and attacked her. (She needed 3 stitches on her cheek. The row from her parents was phenomenal.) 

And, well, in the world of Mages, the words were pretty much essential. They made up the spells. 

No matter how good she was at the other stuff, how hard she worked in class or how much she studied for the exams, she could never hope to become a proper Mage if she didn’t learn to properly speak the spells. 

Which brought her here. 

Sitting at an ancient desk in the oldest, stuffiest study room in the entire school, waiting for Jeff Winger, Seventh Year, to arrive. 

And tutor her. 

As if she was a Normal having trouble with her maths homework. 

Ugh. 

He was late. Not that she expected him to arrive on time, of course - he had a reputation throughout the school for his exceptional laziness and slacker attitude - but still. What if he didn’t arrive? What if she was just left sitting here for hours on end, wasting precious time she could be spending on her homework? What if- 

Oh. 

“Sorry I’m late.” The boy in the doorway announced his presence. How long had he been there? 

“I,” She began, but couldn’t finish. 

He shot her a grin and made his way to the centre of the room. “Annie Edison, right?” 

She managed a nod. 

“Jeff. Nice to meet you.” He took a seat at the desk on her right, leaving her to nervously swivel round to face him. “Duncan says you’re having trouble with magickal words.” 

“Um. Yeah.” 

He nodded to show he understood, but ignored her answer in favour of another question. “Say, I haven’t seen you around school all that much. You’re a Fifth Year, right? How do you spend your time, if not in the dining hall?” 

She looked down and bobbed her head slightly, letting her hair fall around her face. “I had to be taken out of school for a while last year.” She explained primly, not daring to look up. 

“Wait, you’re not…?” At her lack of a response, he huffed out a little laugh. “Wow. So  _you’re_  the Fourth Year with the  **Candle in the wind** problem?” 

“It wasn’t a  _problem.”_ She snapped, jerking her head up before immediately regretting it. Jeff wasn’t laughing at her as she presumed - not really, anyway. He had a look of almost empathy on his face, like he understood. 

Which she probably should have found more insulting, considering the circumstances. 

“You don’t have to-“ 

“No. I’m going to explain.” She straightened up, tried to look him square in the eye. He broke away after a few seconds, shifting uncomfortably in his seat, so she settled for just staring at his nose instead. “I’m not the greatest with Words, as you know. And  **Candle in the wind** was the only one that worked for me, most of the time. And when you’re not great with Words, you have to rely on studying; working hard for your classes. I found out that… That spell… Was good for focus. So I used it when I was studying or doing homework, and then when I needed courage, and then… Well. Whenever I felt like it.” 

Jeff nodded some more, eyes flicking to meet hers every so often. 

“And the accident - It was just a fluke, I swear. I was a little too tired and I cast it and didn’t say it right, or  _something,_ and-“

“And you started a fire in the library.” 

Annie still cringed at the memory. First the table. Then a few embers fell to the carpet and set a patch of  _that_ ablaze, too. Thankfully another student alerted the nearest Professor, otherwise Annie would have probably just stared at the fire for a long time. 

“Did your parents take you out?” 

“Uh-huh. 4 months. I didn’t even come back for the Dance.” She didn’t want it to sound like a cry for pity, but as soon as the words were out of her mouth she couldn’t help but fear it did.

But Jeff didn’t acknowledge it. “So, what particular spells do you have trouble with?”

“Oh.” She wasn’t expecting him to brush over the scandal - she knew for sure he had heard about it; upon returning to Watford, she realised it had been spread through the entire school. Even most First Years seemed to know about it, and they weren’t even at the school at the time.

“Like, is it the more classic, nursery rhyme-based ones, or the modern stuff? Because practically everyone finds those difficult, trust me-“ 

“It’s all of them.” She shook her head. “I don’t know what it is, but ever since I started here, it’s just… I guess it’s the emphasis, or something. I don’t know.” 

“Let’s start with a basic one, then.” He pointed to her boater hat. “You can spell that on, right?” 

Actually, no. She couldn’t. She stitched a clear elastic chin strap to it after her first month at the school, tired of being ridiculed for being the only First Year unable to cast  **Stay put.**

“Wait, what?” Jeff squinted at the top of her head. “How do you keep it on, then? Doesn’t it just blow off in the wind?” 

“I use elastic.” She admitted, sheepishly pulling at the clear string under her chin. “I tried spelling it, once, but it stuck to my head for 3 days straight so I had to get my roommate to let it off.” 

“You’ve been using Normal methods instead of magick for 5  _years?”_

“Not for everything.” She replies, hastily. “Just this, and getting stains out of my uniform.” 

“Right.” Jeff said, as though he couldn’t believe what she was saying. “Ok, so. Let’s start with that.” He jerked his head at her. “Take it off.” 

Resisting was pointless. Annie plucked the elastic away from her neck, easing it upwards, careful not to snap it. With the other hand she pulled the godawful hat off her head, placing it on the desk and shifting it in the direction of her tutor. 

He took it from the desk, studying the elastic for a second with a disapproving furrow of his brow, before yanking, roughly, the offending plastic up and over the top. “So you won’t be tempted.” He explained. 

Annie was hit with an incredible urge to stick her tongue out at him. 

“Now put it back on.” He instructed, setting it back down in front of her. “And use the spell.” 

She desperately wanted to yell at him or something, anything to make him understand that it really wasn’t that simple, she wasn’t like him, magick words didn’t just flow from her tongue the way they clearly did for him. 

But with shaking hands, she gently placed it atop her head. She gripped her wand in her right hand and focused all of her energy on the words, on the meaning, visualising exactly what she wanted them to do and generally just employing all of the countless techniques she had been taught since First Year. 

**“Stay put!”**

“Did it work?” Jeff asked, actually interested in the conversation, now. 

“I don’t know. I haven’t checked.” 

“Yeah, but don’t you feel it?” 

That was the problem. She  _didn’t._ Annie didn’t  _feel_ magick the way others seemed to. Even with the spells that worked, on occasion, there was no real indication of it. Professors spoke of the different ways magick could manifest itself - for some, it was a slow burn through their torso, for others, an icy flooding in their hands - but she couldn’t identify with any of the descriptions. When she spoke magick words, it felt no different than reciting the alphabet, or relaying a food order to the local Chinese takeaway.

Instead of telling Jeff all of this, she simply shook her head. 

“Okay, then.” He said slowly. “Just… Try to pull it off, then. See if it sticks.” 

She did as she was told. Taking one side of the rim in her right hand, and the other in her left, she tugged upwards, sharply. 

It complied without resistance. 

Annie bit back a groan. 

“Is this what always happens?” His brow furrowed, and she knew exactly what he was thinking - what everyone seemed to think, whenever they had the misfortune of trying to teach her to manage her words -  _how the hell did she make it to Watford?_

“Most of the time. There’s a couple easier spells I can do, and there are some that work occasionally, but not on command.” 

He was silent for a long moment. Then: “Can I see your wand?” 

“Excuse me?” 

“Your wand.”

No one had ever asked this of her before. 

Then again, he was a tutor, so maybe he knew what he was doing. 

…Fine.

“Okay, just be careful.” She slid the wand across the desk, watching, eagle-eyed, as he picked it up. “It’s a family heirloom, and my parents’ll kill me if it gets damaged.” 

“Relax.” He muttered, turning it over in his hands. After a minute or so of close inspection, he spoke up once again. “You’re saying this is an heirloom? Like, passed down?” 

“Yes. Why?” 

“Hasn’t it ever occurred to your parents to get you something of your own?” 

Annie shook her head. “No, it’s been in the family for generations. We couldn’t just stop the tradition  _now_. Besides, it can’t be the wand that’s the problem - magickal items are just vessels, the magick comes from the Mage.” 

“Yeah, but it wouldn’t do any harm to find something you could use a little easier.” 

She shrugged her shoulders. In a way, Jeff had a point - perhaps things would be a little better for her if her item was more personal, not just a centuries-old wand forced upon her by her parents. 

“Maybe we should talk to the Mage about this.” 

She shifted uneasily. The Mage, really? 

“I don’t know…” 

“I won’t get you into trouble, promise.” He looked hopeful, and trustworthy, and, yes, a little charming.

“So using a different item is just going to solve all my problems?” She challenged, instead of admitting he might be right about the whole Mage thing. 

“No, of course not.” At her decidedly offended look, he hastily added: “Not that you’re totally helpless. You’ll probably need more advice even with the correct item, ‘cause you’re so used to not having the right vessel for the magick; I’m just saying that it’ll be more useful. Think of it this way: you’ll be able to work harder, do more,  _and_  get better grades in the practical exams.” 

His reasoning was kind of hard to argue with. 

“Alright.” 

“Yeah?” He grinned, for the first time since he stepped into the room. 

“Yeah.” 

Jeff stood up suddenly, scraping the chair back against the floor. “Let’s go, then.” 

“Now?” 

He shot her a look:  _well, duh._

“Sorry,” she prefixed, mostly out of habit. “I just thought, we’d go some other time. Won’t the Mage be busy?” 

He shrugged. “We should at least go schedule an appointment with him.” 

“Um,” she got up slowly, gathering up her wand and tucking it safely into the pocket of her blazer. “Okay, yeah. Sure.” 

“Shall we?” He asked, seemingly half-jokingly, once she joined him at the door. 

Instead of replying properly, she simply nodded, trying to tamp down the nervous-excited energy buzzing through her chest, along her throat. So she stepped out. 

“Milady,” Jeff joked. 

His tone made her a little flustered. Wanting to say something back, a witty response, anything to distract from the blush blossoming across her cheeks, she quickly replied. “Milord.” 

It immediately sounded dorky, so she continued on, focusing on the feeling of her feet in the thin plimsoles hitting the floor. Jeff caught up a minute later. 

They walked together, and as they rounded the corner at the end of the corridor, Annie sneaked a look up at him. 

He was grinning again. 

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading!


End file.
